Hardcore Twenty-Four (Stephanie Plum 24)

Freaky and depressing. The Buick drove like a refrigerator on wheels.

I waved goodbye to Lula and let myself into the house. I heard little dog feet running toward me, and Henry skittered around the corner and into the small foyer. He spun in circles and jumped against my legs. Grandma followed.

“We got a welcoming committee now,” Grandma said. “Henry loves company.”

“He tinkles on people,” my mother shouted from the kitchen. “Don’t let him near Stephanie.”

“He gets excited,” Grandma said. “It’s only a little tinkle. He’s mostly empty.”

I picked Henry up and carried him into the kitchen.

“How did it go with Judy Chucci?” I asked Grandma.

“Pretty good, except her house is a mess. Gnomes everywhere. You can’t hardly walk. Henry tinkled on a bunch of them, but she didn’t notice, and I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think it mattered, what with the state of things.”

“Is she going to be okay?”

“Well, she can fry up an egg and make coffee. Beyond that it’s hard to tell. I told her she should take up bingo. It’ll get her out of the house. She said Mr. Murphy would have loved bingo, even though he could see out of only one eye.”

I put Henry down and went to the fridge. “Do we have any meatloaf?”

“Sit and I’ll make you a sandwich,” my mother said. “You look pale. Are you eating? You aren’t living on candy bars, are you?”

“I try to get ones with nuts in them,” I said, taking a place at the kitchen table. “Keeps my protein level up.”

I couldn’t see my mother’s face, but I knew she was rolling her eyes and asking for help from whoever was working the help desk in heaven.

She gave me a meatloaf sandwich with chips and pickles. I broke off a small piece of meatloaf and fed it to Henry.

“We aren’t feeding him at the table,” my mother said.

“Of course, we are,” Grandma said. “Look how little he is. Look how cute. And he was an orphan. Poor thing.”

My mom pulled a chair out, sat down, and Henry jumped into her lap. Her shoulders slumped a little and she scratched him behind his ear. She was doomed. She was a sucker for kids and helpless little creatures.

I finished my food and called Morelli.

“I’m at my mom’s,” I said. “Do you need me to walk Bob?”

“No. I left Bob with my sister-in-law. I suspected I’d be late.”

“How’s it going with the zombie roundup?”

“We’ve gone through almost the entire area and cleaned out the underground dens. We’ll stay here until dark and then pack it in. We haven’t found any more zombies. Impossible to get a grip on the numbers. I’m sure the users are scattered.”

“Why the underground dens? Why not abandoned buildings?”

“Don’t know. Maybe we just haven’t found the abandoned buildings. We have three users, but so far they’re only talking gibberish.”

“I don’t suppose one of them was Slick?”

“Sorry. No.”

“Do you have any more thoughts on the Tabasco zombie?”

“Yeah. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I think you need to know. They lifted Slick’s fingerprints off the deli container.”

It took a beat for me to catch my breath. “Do you still think it was a setup?”